


A [M]ass of 'What If' questions

by Elyssian



Series: A Dose of Random [3]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Once Upon a Time (TV), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Television - Fandom, movies - Fandom
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 08:29:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7884001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elyssian/pseuds/Elyssian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Theory of Parallel Universes implies that our universe is not the only one, but that many universes exist parallel to each other. These distinct universes within the multiverse theory are called parallel universes or alternate universes. In other words, this is a glorified fic dump for Movies & Television series', be they animated or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What if the Guardians got amnesia? (Guardians of the Galaxy, post movie)

“I am Groot.”

“Y-yeah buddy, you d-don't say.”

Gritting his teeth together to stop the shaking only worked if he had his mouth closed, so Peter's only silver lining was that no one was here to hear the tremor in his voice, especially not a fellow Ravager.

The snowstorm was entirely to blame of course, because that's where he happened to be in the middle of with very weather unfriendly Ravager clothes that had lost all pretence of keeping him warm in the shredded state they were in.

“I am Groot.”

“B-buddy, you're g-going to have t-to expand the vocabulary a l-little.”

The small plant was kinda cute, which made the deep voice slightly disconcerting. Also the fact he had no idea where the plant had come from, only that he's woken up to it prodding his head and snow nearly burying his body, made him doubt the merits of keeping it with him. It could be poisonous, carnivorous or something like that.

On the other hand, he was stuck in the middle of an ice planet with no memories prior to waking up in said ice planet so really, he didn't have much to lose. The company wasn't a best choice but still company

Grunting, he tucked the potted plant under an arm and lifted the collars of his ruined jacket in a futile attempt to block the hail and trudged forward.

 

Her eyes creaked open in protest, the muscles of her body groaning in protest, her brain screaming in protest to the concept of moving. She could hear her muscles screaming out at her. no, no, I'm injured, I'm tired.

Gamora ignored it and forced her body up from the cold metal, noting the dried, flaking blood and the absence of her knives. She forced her attention away (because of it was her injury it was decidedly not serious and she could still use her hands, or surroundings, as weapons, to her advantage) and focused it on the one thing in vicinity that was of importance.

The gun to her face.

 

Drax was… unsure of what was happening.

According to his most recent memories, which might be a bit farther back a few days, he was in prison. Odd thing, the law system. It was not very understandable about why he had been confined after explaining quite clearly his side of the story.

Now however, he seemed to be in… quite the situation.

Chirp! Chirp chirp!

He had awoken quite comfortably in a rather soft pile… and his comfort disappearing quite quickly upon the realisation that the pile was very much alive.

The deceit quite plainly angered him, along with the unknown factor of where he was, and he considered killing off the bright, fluffy rodents.

He decided against it when the rodents had chirruped at his knives, a surprising reaction, and offered him a plate of fruits his mind registered as not edible but quite sweet, though the he could not remember it's name. Odd.

The rodents had proceeded to nuzzle into him, and though the intrusion was unappreciated the comfortable warmth was, as he had been quick to realise that his surroundings were actually quite cold, if the frosted plant life was any indication. And it was a lot more comfortable than prison. Much more comfortable.

 

When Rocket woke and couldn't find Groot, he reached for the next item on the priority list- a gun. Then he went back to finding Groot.

Or would have, if he'd known whose spaceship he was on, and what the hell was up with the snowstorm outside the window, and while the pillows he was on were kinda comfy, the green chick covered in blood on the floor was bound to not be.

A hypothesis instantly proved right when the random gun he'd grabbed and pointed at her was yanked away and she had two hands at his throat.

“Where am I?”

“I'm tellin' ya green girl I ain't got no idea either!”

“Is this not your ship?”

“I thought it was yours or something!”

The ship, though not his style, was kinda classy, it had a homey, familiar feel to it but for the life of him he couldn't remember ever seeing it before.

“Who are you Rodent?”

Oh now that was fucking rude!

“Who the hell are you calling rodent, psycho bitch?!”

“I am not a bitch!”

“You're trying to kill me here!”

“You had a gun pointed to my face!”

“Don't know if you've noticed, but the blood soaked outfit makes you look like a serial killer!”

The green chick frown and looked down, like she hadn't known. Oh wait… he had a bit of a blank in his head so maybe she really didn't know? Oh well that would be fan-fucking-tastic.

“Just checking here but you wouldn't happen to not know where the hell this is and how we got here?”

She narrowed her eyes and him and dropped him, folding her arms and sighing.

“Presumably, both you and I have amnesia retrograde from our concussions.”

“Concussion?”

Rocket reached a hand to the dull throb at the back of his head, and ran his hands over the circle of bandages crowning him.

“Seeing as how we were not restrained, it would be safe to assume that we are either here willingly or the ship belongs to some Good Samaritan. A useless action, as I will now be leaving.”

At that Rocket laughed.

“What part of that was funny, rodent.”

He stopped laughing and growled.

“One, Don't call me rodent! Two, what're you gonna do princess, walk through a snowstorm? I'd like to see that!”

She frowned and moved to peer through the slightly frosted glass and pursed her lips. Apparently Rocket's guess that she wasn't a resident of the planet and didn't have the biology to survive the snowstorm came through because she went back to glare at him.

“Do not call me princess.”

“Then don't call me rodent.”

They stared each other down, until she relented.

“Fine. A compromise till we solve this predicament. I am Gamora.”

Not friendly, but a compromise he could manage.

“Rocket.”

 

Peter stumbled into the cave and forced himself to crawl away from the entrance, further in to more warmth, before putting the pot down as gently as he could and crashing.

“I am Groot.”

He peeked at the plant, sensing the urgency in his voice but for the life of him still unable to decipher what the plant was trying to say. His vocabulary seemed to compromise of-

-The words ‘I’,‘am’ and ‘Groot’. In that order.-

What was that? A memory? Of what?

Peter tried to grasp at the fleeting images but it fled from him. For some odd reason the only thing he got was a memory to raccoons. Weird.

“I am Groot!”

“Buddy! I don't speak Groot!”

Something snared his ankle and Peter was lifted into the air.

Oh so this is what he was warning me about.

Peter got a good look at the mutated plant holding him up by the ankles, got a better look at very carnivorous looking teeth and summed up his situation in one word.

“Fuck.”


	2. What if she thought about it? [Guardians of the Galaxy, Canon compliant]

The change, it's- there's no other word for it- _exhilarating._

She had reached out for him to ease the pain, to share the burden so that maybe, just a maybe, the stupid, selfless idiot, her _friend_ , might make it.

Their hands had connected, just a second, and she felt the change.

It was exhilarating, to change from a puny force dwarfed by the mystic gale that had erupted from the stone to the eye of the storm; untouchable, still, and raw power that burned her body and set every nerve end on fire but made her feel alive- one with the great power that coursed through her veins like molten lava.

It was pain and ecstasy.

It had lasted for a long moment, the still, raging force confined to their beings and yet swirling around them in a massive storm, till her body and mind remembered.

_I am here to save him, keep him alive._

Her hand slams the containment unit over the stone, and she pushes down the twinge of disappointment.

Is it the nature of all beings to seek the sweetness of death, the revelation that comes with the zenith of pain?

It was a drug, powerful, invading her senses with might, but deadly all the same.

Later, much later when it is over, and they- the five of them- fly away safe, seeking something they don't know yet but together because that was all that mattered, she looks at her hands, hoping maybe for a remnant; a scar or a flicker of dark light against her skin. A sign that it had been there, inhabiting her body as a vessel.

She looks away, up to Peter as music flits through the air.

_Oh, what a drug that was._


	3. What if it was darker? [How to train your dragon, dark AU]

Hiccup's bond with Toothless is unique, that fact is indisputable.

A symbiotic bond with nothing to compare to. Astrid knows that there's still a ridge between the Dragons and everyone else, even after four years. They've moved on from treating the dragons like pets (well, some of them) to treating them like companions. But Hiccup and Toothless… they're on a whole other level.

If Astrid takes the time off, like she is now (because flipping on top of your dragon to stare at space is a normal way to rest after training), to watch and observe, she sees it.

The way Toothless moves, not tailing Hiccup but at his side constantly, somehow sensing the mood changes, the subtle shifts that she can't notice; it's albeit unsettling, because Hiccup does the same thing. She worries that they are too much like each other.

On the good side, Hiccup was a quiet person; docile and humble. Toothless picked these traits up, becoming less prone to bowl over the other (compared to him) frailer humans, settling for less forceful motions like licking or nudging.

On the not so good side; Toothless, for all his puppy like behaviour, was hailed as one of the deadliest dragons in existence, so called the unholy offspring of lightning and fire. And Hiccup has picked some of this up.

* * *

 

The Night Fury was legend once. Rumoured perhaps to be another of Loki's monstrous children; or an imitation of Thor; a challenge set by the Allfather Odin; or a creature of Hel's domain. No one was sure. No one wanted to know. Even Vikings prayed their nightmares to remain as such.

It's unwarranted that they all flinched around Toothless for the first few months; one does not not adjust to having you nightmares walk among you so quickly.

* * *

 

Sometimes, Hiccup gets bad days.

It becomes more evident then, or maybe it becomes more evident to Astrid who only truly looked him after he became the accomplished weirdo. (She never paid much attention to him when he was just the looser.)

He takes trips, frequent trips, to map out the horizon and Astrid follows him half the time for the fun of it. Today she follows because Hiccup looks off.

“Bad day?”

“Nah, just kinda feels rotten. Bad dreams I guess.”

They don't travel far as Hiccup seems to be more in the mood for comfort and not adventure. They land in a familiar coast where a forest softly eats at beach's environs. The forest is good for some sweet fruits, and that's where they head.

Astrid's dragon prefers playing the waters over the trees so only Toothless trails after them.

It is a short walk, where Astrid leaves Hiccup to mull his thoughts and watches Toothless test the bendiness of the trees.

The first arrow strikes true.

Astrid sees the metal tip, but it is too fast for her and by the time she's ready the bolt has struck Toothless. She readies for a dash in any direction, but Toothless freezes them.

He lets out a sad keen, like nothing she's ever heard or expected to hear from him.

Hiccup dashes out first, a surprise to Astrid since _when does he ever leave his precious dragon?_

Astrid promises Toothless their return but he seemed not to need it. He gazed only at the trees with something like faith in his eyes.

Astrid dashes after Hiccup, unobstructed by a lack of low branches and reaches him in two minutes. He did not have to go far it seems.

Astrid's adrenaline is not yet all put of her blood yet, and she does not register much shock as she gazes down at a dead man holding a crossbow. Instead she looks at the dagger Hiccup has pulled from his person and she thinks,

_Here is a boy too sacred to kill dragons but not scared at all to kill humans._


	4. What if Jim grew up with Pike? [Star Trek (movie reboot), AU]

They shut her up after five years. Her protests and insinuations, all the evidence she spat at them about the biggest, baddest Romulan ship they've ever seen and why they should pissing their pants- all stomped down when some pretentious admiral gives and signs a paper that sends her up to space and will keep her there for twenty years. Never mind that she's got two kids, Jim barely five and Sam's just thirteen, never mind that she's a widow who's lost her love in the worst possible way- if she's standing in the way of their smooth path, Starfleet will do their damnedest to mow her down. Chris is just surprised it took them so long.

Winona has a friend named Frank. Frank Hallie went to school with her and George. A decent guy, but very average. Also, he doesn't look Winona in the eye when he talks to her. He looks down. Chris knows that she's looking for someone to take care of Jim since her parents and George's parents really only have enough for Sam (despite their false assurances that they can take both) and she's been eying Frank but Chris will shoot Winona if she leaves Jim with Frank Hallie. He tells her as much.

“Kirk, Hallie's a piece of shit. If you leave your youngest son with him I will shoot you, I swear to god.”

Winona appraises him over the set of shot glasses. The patrons near their booth try to discreetly scoot away, because this bar's chocked full of Starfleet officers and any Starfleet officer with at least two brain cells to rub knows Kirk and her infamous rage quits. Several recognise Chris and- did that guy just start praying? Chris knows he's not that fucked.

_Is he?_

Carefully, with his momentary rage quieted and a more sane voice in his head, he looks at Winona in the eye.

She's smirking.

At that moment the only thing Christopher Pike managed to process was, _fuck. I'm fucked. I'm about to get screwed over- did I remember to tell Number One-_

“Okay then. You take him.”

Chris's mind stutters and stops computing.

“What?”

“You're offering to take Jim right?”

“Wait what?”

Winona leaves Chris gaping at the booth, downing one last shot before walking out.

“I'll drop him at your place before I leave.”

“Winona!”

* * *

 

True to her word, Jim is on the porch of his Starfleet assigned house (he's gone far from his days on the Kelvin) with three suitcases larger than him and Winona drives off waving.

Chris walks out, looks down at a miniature version of George (he was great guy dammit) and holds out a hand.

“Hey. I'm Christopher Pike.”

The boy looks up at him with George's shocking blue (sapphires framed by gold) and grabs a finger.

“Jim.”

Chris grabs two of the cases and motions to towards the door. Jim pushed the last suitcase after him.

“Let's get you settled okay?”

* * *

 

Chris waits till Jim's suitcases are away in one of two spare rooms and sets him down with a plate of replicated lasagna before comming Number One.

“Hey, Prime, do you know how to take care of kids?”

Number one blinks once at the use of another new nickname and again at the question.

“Chris. Over the past week you have downloaded twenty different parenting manuals and reading material of similar content. Assuming that you now have adequate knowledge of how to secure a child's basic needs is expected.”

Chris waves his hands around, useless gestures since she can't exactly see him.

“But this a real kid. Life goes beyond books- yes I am throwing your words back at you. What if I fuck up and-”

Number One waits patiently as hysteria creeps into his voice.

“-and he dies or gets upset or runs away- fuck what if he dies because I was being shitty-”

“Christopher.”

Number One waits for his breath to even out before she continues.

“You are the most emotional person I know. You'll be fine.”

“You barely know anyone! That's not reassuring Uno.”

“I estimate my time of arrival to be 1306. Hold your ground till I get there.”

Number One hangs up and Chris wrings his hands before walking out of the bathroom to a curious Jim.

* * *

 

“You're gonna be okay.”

Chris is already failing. Shouldn't it be him reassuring the kid?

“What makes you say that?”

“You panicked. That means you care and Sam said that's what matters.”

Jim goes back to spooning his food and Chris decides to replicate something to fill up the silence.

* * *

 

Jim gets along with Number One like a house one fire. He likes confusing her with literary devices and aphorisms from the 21st century or further back, outdated and out of context but still holding their humour in each careful word. Sometimes Chris double takes and has to check if he accidentally put a pint sized millennial in his house.

Number One enjoys herself way too much, taking in Jim's brightness and the complex old pop references as a challenge. It's like the time Chris got her a super rubrics cube, only she didn't solve Jim in sixteen seconds. She never really solves the never ending puzzle of James Tiberius Kirk, but she starts getting pieces like the time she left for bed (because she stopped leaving Chris's house after six months of Jim) after Jim's eleventh birthday party and tells him,

“May the force be with you.”

Chris resists the urge to swear because he still hasn't learnt the quotes and _where the hell did that one come from_ , because Jim just lights up and smiles. Chris is here for that so if it makes the kid happy, it stays.

* * *

 

Jim flies by his teen years, growing out faster than Chris can blink. Soon enough, Chris's got half a head's shock of white and Jim's eyes meet his brows.

“You see this Jim? All you.”

Chris points at the white eating at his hair and Jim tries not to laugh over his shot glass.

“I'm pretty sure half of that is from Number One.”

Chris shakes his head.

“Nope. All you kid. I'm getting old Jim, so why don't you give this old man some time to be old and sucker the academy?”

“You? Old?” Jim laughs. “Who are you and what have you done to Christopher Pike?”

“Very funny Jim. Now before I let you distract me- Starfleet. How about it?”

This is the conversation Chris dragged him to a bar for, because getting a straight answer from Jim takes at least five shots of whatever he hasn't built up a resistance of. (Jim's a walking wonder, Chris swears on his stripes.)

“Eh.”

“Eh? That's it?”

Jim swirls his glass, pausing to weigh and contemplate telling Chris he's really not interested. Jim's rarely interested in anything, because the kid is a master at envision possible scenarios and how much they'd suck for him. Or how boring it would be. Or maybe he still hasn't gotten over his last genius idea. (Tarsus was disaster.)

Well Chris's gotta perk up the kid someway or another.

“There's going to be Vulcan this year. The ambassador's son. Gonna be a new one for the academy.”

“I know what you're doing.” Jim squints at him. “You're baiting me.”

Chris chuckles and fishes around his pockets for credits.

“And you're still going to bite.”

* * *

 

Yup, by noon the next day Jim's name is on a roster.


	5. What if- nevermind. [Deadpool (2016), Canon compliant]

He never really admit it but Wade did enjoy a form of connection to Francis.

Back when he was in super mutation slash torture treatment? He had so much good sass material he was pretty sure Francis enjoyed too. Guessing his name had been a great series of bonding sessions. (That led to pretty bad torture sessions but hey, every relationship has it's up and downs!)

Back when he was hunting the motherfucker's ass down? If they'd met and had been the types of guys to do so, it would've led to some great hate sex. Fortunately, they weren't those kind of guys. Also, Wade wouldn't fuck anyone with his face at that moment, not even with a three inch thick condom.

But their greatest bonding moment? When Wade had him pinned, arms broken with a gun to the face.

“Four or five moments!”

Francis gave him the eyes, clear with a message Wade understood too well.

“When you choose to be a better man-”

Wade nodded solemnly, and Francis slightly inclined his head. He tried sending out the message.

I totally understand how you feel bro.

Francis replied with, For fucks sake just do it already.

“-and spare an enemy before you-”

Wade shot Francis's brains out. No brain matter got on his suit. Some of it got on Colossus's shoes though. He wished he could shoot his own brain out but, well. Oh and then Colossus puked.

“Why did you do that?”

Wade flung his hands up.

“Well you were droning on and on!”


	6. What if DAEMONS? [Once Upon A Time, His Dark Materials AU]

**1: The Queen**

“Raven isn't a raven.”

Regina spares a short glance at her, but she looks back down to the little gem before gracing her with a snort.

“How smart of you to realise Miss Swan.”

The words lack their usual bite, and Emma tries hard not to make a jab at that. They're both tired but Regina's the one giving away her life here. Regina's doing all the saving that matters here.

“Raven- what _is_ Raven?”

The black little thing pokes it's head out of Regina's coat to peer at Emma with beady eyes. Emma's never seen the whole of him before. Cinnamon shifts against Emma's leg, half flapping his wings.

“Don't tell us he's a lizard cuz we know that's bullshit.”

The trumpeter swan barks out, trying, Emma knows, to cover up the uneasy silence in the tunnel.

Regina lets out a tired sigh that's so unlike her, Emma considers back-pedalling before her entire image of Regina goes to the wind.

“Hey, you know what, that was probably pretty damn rude for me to-”

“It doesn't matter Miss Swan.”

Regina slouches forward with a level of finality that has Emma and Cinnamon squirming.

“I'm about to die so I might as well tell you.”

Raven half slides, half scuttles out and Emma gapes because _what the fuck that's not-_

“How have you been keeping him in your clothes?”

Regina's lips quiver in disbelief.

“That's what you want ask?”

Emma answers straight and flatly.

“Yep. I'm not dumb enough to miss a chimera when I see so I don't see the point of asking about that.”

Curiosity. Surprise. Short flickers of emotion on her face. A bit of strength comes back to Regina and Emma hears it in her voice.

“Not even going ask what's mixed into him?”

“Bat, snake and probably a horned lizard.”

Regina laughs at her.

“All correct Miss Swan. And here I feared that I would be leaving my son with a dumb blonde.”

Emma snorts, half imagining the cold, dreariness fading away.

“You shouldn't judge people by their appearance, your highness.”

Then Emma hears the low rumbling, and identifies it as the chimera she's never heard speak before.

“I like your spunk girl. Too bad we're about to die. You would have a good friend for Regina.”

Regina stills and they go back to noticing that Storybrooke was about to be destroyed.

“So Regina's the face-value bitch and you're the subtle bitch huh?”

Emma hissed.

“Cinnamon!”

Regina fights down the smile with depressing thoughts of her demise.

-

**2: Raven**

It helped to keep Raven hidden, Regina reasoned.

They would think her a monster, a wraith, a witch. They would _fear_ her.

Better Regina than Raven, because after Daniel, after Mother's painful lessons, Raven was the only thing left she could love. (She had been so proud when mother look at her with disgust.)

( _“You are ashamed.” Raven hissed._

_“I'm not ashamed of you.”_

_“You are ashamed of yourself.”_

_Regina had no counter for that.)_

-

**3: The Captain**

“Where do you hide her?”

It had been David who asked, because at the forest Mary Margaret had known (learnt) the value of secrecy and at the beanstalk Emma hadn't enough space in her mind to ask. (Maybe Mulan and Aurora had asked, but if they did Emma hadn't heard.)

“Nowhere.”

Killian left it at that and stalked back to the helm.

They hadn't asked again on the journey and then on the trek but then they burst into Pan's encampment and things turned _ugly._

Pan had a mouse in his hand.

It was Hope, Henry's Hope who loved trying to shift into animals that didn't exist but failed and shifted into a dog when Henry was sad or frustrated and when Henry was in trouble Hope would shift into something small so she could hide-

“Do you know that if I kill someone's daemon in Neverland, they don't die? Well, that's because I will it so but don't you lot think that's interesting?”

Emma and Regina are too wired, zeroed in on Hope squirming in Pan's hand. Mary Margaret and David are too preoccupied watching Emma's back but Mary Margaret's Hymn, tiny little songbird who sure as hell didn't talk like a tiny little songbird, sounded out for them.

“You're lying.”

He fretted and Emma's Cinnamon eyed Pan's daemon. A crocodile. _The_ crocodile, Emma realised.

“If you're talking about old Piper here, I didn't care to repeat that particular painful procedure on myself. Well, it looked painful. You were screaming quite nicely dear Captain.”

Killian took a step back and the jarring movement (Captain Hook? The prideful, idiot pirate stuffed with bravado _stepped back_?) forced Emma away from her thoughts and into reality. What had Pan said?

“Did he tell you? Of course he didn't.”

“Pan stop.”

Killian's voice had been quiet. Emma barely heard. But she did, and then she noticed that everything else was quiet too. The leaves didn't rustle. The branches didn't creak. The wind didn't whistle. And worst of all _the Lost Boys didn't breathe._

“The bird was troublesome though. But that's what birds are I suppose. I had to break her wings so she wouldn't try to escape- your screams were harmonised, did you notice? Anyways-”

“Stop it.”

“-anyways she made quite a pathetic amount of pleading before I tossed her over the cliff.”

Pan's grin had lost all signs of playfulness now. He was casually dangling Hope over the crocodile but it looked disinterested and Emma had lost interest too because Pan's voice was like grating Siberia down her spine and they were half watching him and a paling Killian.

“Don't take me away from Killian, and all that. The desperation was quite a lovely-”

“ _Peter.”_

Kilian swayed backwards.

“ _Please stop.”_

Pan's grin turned feral.

“That is what you said before I killed her, wasn't it?”

Then Pan's grin went feral and the air turned black, black with the sudden hostility the Lost Boys were radiating, and unconsciously Emma took a step back to Killian.

“Would you like to know something else I discovered? The bodies here don't rot.”

There's flash and then Pan's gone, right past them and dropping a furl of feathers into Killians arms.

Killian _screams_ and all hell breaks loose.

-

**4: Aife**

Her name was Aife and when he was fourteen, she settled late into an Gull.

Why was her name Aife? Killian didn't know. (It was a lie. She was Aife because Liam's Albatross was Scáthach.)

His mother had considered it to be unlucky, but she considered the attachment to Liam a good sign. But his father, his bastard father Killian had the misfortune to idolise, had given his very prompt opinion and left it at that.

 _Destined to be screwed by the hero,_ he said. _Screwed and nothing more._

Three hundred years later and chained in a giant's lair, Killian though that description had made sense.

-

**5: Pirate Magic**

Regina had been fine with her chimera at first. But then, the world was technically ending.

It got bad when they came back from the mines to announce the not-end-of-the-world (and that they would not be sticking around to celebrate because those fuckers had taken Henry) and someone, some damn bastard who hung on to a grudge, had hissed on the exposed Raven.

“A chimera.”

Half the crowd backed away and the whispers started. _(Evil, insane, unhinged, wrong, mistake-)_

Emma saw her stiffen and she held out a hand but the cold shoulder was freezing and it slid off.

Killian hadn't been fine with his daemon, or lack thereof at first.

They guessed he would run for the sea and chased, but hours later, when they found him curled on the beach with fist pressed to his eyes, they had chosen not to leave the tree and wait.

For about five minutes then Regina had marched across the sand, Emma trailing after because he really looks like he could be alone-

Regina pulled Raven out of her shirt and, when he blearily looked up, dumped him on his lap. (The gull was in front of him, twisted and broken.)

“I could've cried when they first mocked Raven. But I got angry and crushed that peasant's daemon under my heels until it was nothing but dust.”

Regina reached down and grabbed the stunned pirate by his vest.

“So you can either stay here mourning away or you can get angry at Pan for mocking her Jones and rip his crocodile into pieces.”

Five seconds later, Emma had stopped waiting too and dragged them back, away from such openness and batted away her parent's prying.

-

**6: A drink**

When the Neverland fiasco (because that was what Emma's life had become, a big whopping fiasco) had died down, Emma spent thirty minutes staring at unpacked boxes and the bare walls of her new apartment. (Staying with parents at this age was, kindly put, discomforting.) Henry was with Neal. Mary Margaret and David were enjoying alone time. Ruby was either working or, as the quotation marks in her text implied, screwing Whale.

“Emma this sucks. We're going drinking.”

The good thing about having your soul as a separate entity; it knew exactly what you needed and told you so.

So Emma sauntered into the Rabbit Hole fifteen minutes later, alone, and three hours later Killian had her propped up while Regina searched her pockets for her keys so they could dump her on her couch.

“I switched the cider with the rum.”

Emma giggles and Regina looked at her with something like weariness and amusement.

“We noticed Miss Swan.”

“You're fucking drunk girl so shut your trap before you embarrass us!”

Emma had gotten drunk enough to make Cinnamon sway with tipsyness, past Regina's legs and through the opened door.

“Your Cinnamon's a real charmer love. A little help with her legs your highness?”

Killian followed after the teetering swan, half dragging Emma as Regina kept her legs from shooting out in various directions.

When they did release her into the couch, Emma's flailing arms dragged them down with her. Killian, albeit amused, tries to make eye contact with Regina over Emma.

“You know what they say about the constantly stressed. They're either happy drunks or sobbing drunks.”

“They say that?”

Emma chose this moment to surge forward.

“You two should have gotten drunk too! You too are sad! I get sad looking at you.”

Then Emma sunk back into the couch, eyes fading for a moment before she snapped back.

“Cinnamon! Do the thing!”

“Didn't have to tell- yell blonde _we're connected_.”

Regina and Killian humoured the Swans- both actual avian and person- and watched the daemon. Raven skittered out and made a lazy flight around the room out of interest.

Cinnamon sneezed and shifted into a rabbit with a shower of dust.

Killian ad Regina jumped and started checking on Emma.

“Emma, are you-”

“What the bloody hell was that?”

Emma, not in a show of disinterest but merely not understanding their concern, started accusing Cinnamon.

“Cin! Wrong form!”

“I noticed! Give me a moment.”

The rabbit shook and moments later, a large dog was pandering towards the couch.

Emma half lifted the furred mass into the couch and over their laps.

“This is Cinnamon's calming mode.”

She took in their confusion.

“It's a Saint Benard. The rescue dog?”

“I see.”

Regina's eyes flickered over the dog nuzzling into her lap.

“Your daemon is unsettled.”

“He is. It's really useful. When I had to steal stuff Cinnamon could look like something harmless and change when we needed to steal again so no one would remember and when I was homeless he'd shift into something warm and when I was in prison he was a lion or a tiger because I was pregnant and some of them hated me and I didn't know why-”

Emma fisted up her daemon's fur and burst into tears.

Killian, to his credit, showed no discomfort and started rubbing circles into her back. Regina had stilled the way she did when she didn't know what to do. But Raven knew what to do apparently. He glided down and landed on Emma's head, curling till he resembled a diy halloween crown before announcing quite flatly,

“Well, welcome to team Fucked Up.”

Emma laughed and they eased.

“Team Fucked Up he said.”

Cinnamon wrapped himself around them tighter, sealing Regina and Killian. Emma remained curled over Cinnamon, oddly still and her daemon, after five minutes of silence, informed them that she was dozing off.

“Why are you unsettled mate?”

Cinnamon snorted.

“It's called adapting to survive buddy. When Emma was in the system I had to alternate between a form that would attract foster families and a form that fend off shitty foster families. When Emma was homeless I had to use something cute be day so we'd get sympathises who'd spare some change and at night I had to change to something that told everyone else ok the block to to fuck with us. When she got that bondsman job I didn't shift so often but her job got nasty sometimes.”

The pause filled the room. Killian made an offering to the silence.

“Well I guess team Fucked Up does suite us.”

Cinnamon barked out a hoarse laugh.

“Well I've spilled my girl's life story here so spill me yours so I can call it even.”

They stilled and the dog waited. Raven slithered back to Regina and nudged. She hesitated, so Killian found himself spilling his words to the room, to a dog, a chimera, a queen and a sleeping princess.

He told them he loved his mother and she died when he was five. He told them how he idolised his father and he had abandoned him at eight. He told them how his brother, Liam, had cared for him and he had turned cold in his arms when he was twenty one. He told them how he had clung to his daemon, Aife, and she'd been wrenched from his grasp when time had been muddled and painful.

Regina surged to stamp out the silence in his wake.

She told them that when Raven first settled into a snake she had been seven and mother had bled her fingers out, had drilled into her that crying was being weak and _if you cry Regina I will make it more painful._ She told them that when Raven had grown a horn and sharp ridges mother had ripped out her lover's heart and fed it to her daemon, a once regal fox, Regina had been eighteen and the screams had frozen her heart. She told them that when she gave up the one person who still lover her, her dead father, for a curse that wasn't worth it, she had been twenty eight and Raven grew a bat's wings and a bat's claws.

And then Emma, who was never asleep and much more sobered, said her piece quietly.

“I'm sorry.”

Raven flicked his tail at her.

“We all are, idiot.”

-

**7: A bit of closure**

Emma awoke to pounding between her ears.

“Ow, fuck.”

The fur cushion on her lap rumbled.

“Told you not to inhale the scotch. At you left the couch unfolded or you'd be fighting off cramps with that headache.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Emma wondered if moving past Cinnamon for the aspirin would disturb them. Regina had curled up, and her subconscious neatness had somehow kept her bed hair at bay. Killian had sprawled, a nice contrast to Regina. His eternally tousled hair remained as it was, though Emma supposed that was because it wasn't possible for it to get messier.

Emma also noticed that they had all leaned left, which meant she was in Killian's chest and Regina was pressed into her side. No way was she getting out of this without waking the two up. Should she go back to sleep? Raven answered for her by dropping off the ceiling and landing on her eyes.

(They weren't anything yet but hell they'd has time to work on it later.)

(Days later the wicked witch of the west started turning people to monkeys and Emma swore.)


End file.
